


Your Boyfriend, The Demon

by Still_Floating



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Demon Boyfriend, Demon Sex, Monster Boyfriend, Teratophilia, x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:57:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_Floating/pseuds/Still_Floating
Summary: Basically just a teratophilia demon x reader fic, posting it here in case tumblr eats the post.





	1. Chapter 1

　　You found yourself in front of a large, old-looking house. Checking the paper in your hand, your eyes widened. _I know Dad said her house was big, but holy shit._ Your great-uncle had passed a couple months ago, and his wife decided to sell the house within the family. When your Dad asked if you wanted it as your early inheritance, you believed it would be a sort of dusty fixer-upper, but as you opened the large wooden doors, you quickly realized that was _not_ the case. The place seemed even bigger inside and every single surface could be wiped with a white glove without leaving so much as a speck.  
　　 _Okay_ , let’s do this. You walked in and went straight up the stairs, looking for the master bedroom, but as you walked in, it felt wrong to sleep in the room where he died. So, you moved to a slightly smaller room nearby. You unpacked the large tote you brought, and checked on the flight bringing in your stuff. You still had like twelve hours, and you really, really needed a nap. After a moment of dignity, you curled up on the floor and went to sleep.  
　　You awoke to the bedroom door creaking. Making a mental note to grab some WD-40 later, you checked your phone. _Ugh, barely got an hour_. You got up and closed the door, then went back to sleep.  
　　Again, you awoke to a creaking. I closed that. _‘Course; I get a new house, aaand it’s haunted._ You got up this time, accepting the end of your rest, and got on your phone, downloading some podcasts to play later to help you get through the night. Then, you headed out to eat.  
　　When you got back, you messed around on your phone and decided to hook up your console and wifi network, mainly so you wouldn’t have to later. As you went downstairs to do this, you realized that the stairs, and basically the whole house was a little creaky. It may have been clean, but this house was the noisiest place you’d ever been in.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
　　After basically a whole day of being bored (if you ever had to move again, you’d absolutely set it up so your stuff came sooner, or get there at night and bring a sleeping bag), finally someone knocked on the door with your boxes and bins.  
　　That said, you now had a very long night of moving boxes and plotting out the house you were living in. And at the end of it, you really could not wait to pass out, and now that your mattress was here, and the bedframe rebuilt, you could. Honestly, it had been calling to you all night, but if you waited, tomorrow would just be twice as long.  
　　When you finally slunk into bed, you wondered if you even should bother with the podcasts, but with the concept of being woken up again, you did without a second thought.  
Late in the night, you woke up with the weird discomfort that always came with the first night in a new house. You tried to shrug it off, but this creeping feeling of something being just... wrong wouldn’t go away. It was then that you realized what was playing on your phone. Some voice so low it made your speakers shakey, was saying your name. Over....and over...and over. You immediately turned off the phone, and put it in your nightstand, really freaked out. You’d never had a nightmare this realistic before, because of course that’s what it was. It had to be. Right?


	2. Chapter 2

　　So, you went back to try and sleep, phone off, and officially freaked to shit. It then occurred to you that you were trying to go to sleep when you were in a dream. _Can that work? Whatever._ You eventually succeeded, and when you woke up again, it was morning. You shook off whatever the fuck happened last night as paint fumes from the house, and got up to go grocery shopping.  
　　And, with that, things became pretty normal. Life here was new, but since your job was still nearby, nothing was too different. Your car came in later on that day and you went and picked it up. You went back to work the next week, and settled into the change. The house didn’t creak so much with all your stuff in it, and you pretty much forgot about your first day there.  
　　But then, under your nose, things started to move. No matter where you put your keys, they always ended up in your top drawer. Always. Other stuff would move here and there, usually in the last place you’d look for it, but where you would definitely find it. Some things would even disappear, if only for a day or two.  
　　And that was okay, it was probably you being forgetful, and you certainly didn’t want to acknowledge that there could actually be something wrong. Everything seemed okay, until one morning, a few months in.  
　　You were considering getting a cat; the new place was large and lonely, and you desperately missed the neighbors cat who would scratch at your apartment door all the time. As you were thinking through it and looking at some kittens on the internet, the screen went black. You sighed, bothered at your laptop’s many issues, and turned it back on.  
　　However, it hardly took a second to load, and you logged into your profile to see a window already up, with a small siberian kitten looking you in the eyes. He was adorable, but it nagged at you that he hadn’t shown up in the search results, and you probably wouldn’t have clicked on the kitten even if he had. You closed the tab, and moved on. However, every piece of technology you touched at home popped up with this little kitten, and eventually, you bit.  
　　Looking into him further, you found out that he’d never lived with other animals, and did best alone, but was very affectionate. He even had a tendency to sleep in the bed with his foster owners. He was absolutely perfect, and you decided to contact the fosters, setting up an appointment to meet.  
　　After that meeting, you quickly saw what they’d meant. He stayed away at first, but very quickly warmed up, and was in her lap purring before it was over. That day you put the wheels in motion to adopt him, choosing to name him something Russian because he was a siberian cat, and because Russian names were so beautiful. Over time, you settled on either Nikolai or Ziv, short for Zivan, and after a dream where you called him Ziv, you decided to go with that.  
　　Soon enough you got to take him home. He was a dear in the car, exactly how you remembered him, but the second he got home, he darted under your couch,and stayed there. All day. Now, you knew it was normal for there to be an adjustment period, but when he came out the next morning, you realized something must have been wrong. He was biting and attacking your feet, and just was a general terror. When you came home from work, you found that he’d torn apart his bed, and somehow gotten out of his little playpen setup. This couldn’t be good. You searched the whole house, bringing around a treat that his fosters had recommended, and calling his name.  
　　Finally, you went to your room and found the top drawer open, with the little kitten inside. You gave him the treat but, he ignored it, staring at you. “What?” you asked him.  
　　“What?” A low voice returned from the little cat’s mouth. Suddenly, your first night here flashed back through your mind. It was the same voice.  
　　“What the hell? H-How?”  
　　“Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with your cat. I’m just using him to talk to you. I don’t think you’d appreciate my true form.”  
　　“And who the hell are you?”  
　　“Oh, my apologies. My name is Eitan. I’m a type of demon, I guess you could say.”  
　　“What do you mean, a type of demon. Who are you?”  
　　The cat sighed, which was as strange for you to say as it was to think, “Essentially, I’m a Russian demon. I’ve been in this house for many years, I used to know your great-aunt before she left. She warned me that you would be nervous.”  
　　“Nervous? No. I’m hallucinating. I’m crazy.”  
　　“Oh now, now. Relax. Don’t you remember when we used to talk? When you were maybe 13 or 14?”  
You blushed. Around that age, you’d found a weird story on tumblr about someone having...relations with a demon. You read it, and soon after had a far-too-late imaginary friend that you’d touched yourself to more than once. You kept it contained to this house because you only spent holidays and vacations here, and had convinced yourself it was just a weird coping mechanism to being away from home. After all, you always slept better after talking to that demon. “Y-You were real?”


End file.
